


chemistry, history, and shared trauma

by theoncomingriver



Category: Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: F/M, One Shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-30
Updated: 2017-12-30
Packaged: 2019-02-24 06:35:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,434
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13208049
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theoncomingriver/pseuds/theoncomingriver
Summary: A tiny one-shot covering Joyce and Hopper's friendship after the events of season 2 and after the kids leave for college. (We're pretending the last five seconds of the season didn't happen because I want my children to be happy).





	chemistry, history, and shared trauma

**Author's Note:**

> This was written in one sitting without a beta so apologies for any mistakes.

People in Hawkins were always whispering about Joyce Byers. Even before Will’s disappearance, they whispered about how her husband left her alone with two boys she could barely handle. Then everything went catastrophically wrong, her life and well-being completely shattered, but yet they still talked, spreading rumors about how she was an unfit parent. Bob came along after she thought everything was settled and people talked about them too, about how soon it was since her child came back from the dead. And then Bob died, which sent her spiraling, but no one ever cared about her damn well-being, did they? They only cared about their fucking rumors, that Joyce Byers was a black hole that destroyed everyone around her.

The latest rumor was that she and Jim Hopper were hooking up behind the backs of their children. She could see where this rumor came from; she and Jim had been driven closer together by the loss of Bob and he basically carried her through her grief. And yes, Jim had spent the night at her house, but only when Will woke up with night terrors, dreaming of the Mind Flayer, and she called him in a panic that the episodes were back. They hadn’t been, it was only a bad dream, but Jim slept on their couch that night just in case. 

They tried to keep their distance at first, when the wounds from Bob’s death were still fresh and gaping, but they kept running into each other outside the school, outside the arcade, perpetually waiting on their kids like the helicopter parents/chauffeurs they had turned into. It had been nearly impossible for her to step back and give Will his space, to drop him off at high school and watch him turn into a strong-willed teenager that didn’t want or need his mom trailing him everywhere. Jim, though, had been having a much more difficult time with El. At least when Will got into a mood he couldn’t telepathically slam doors and throw things around the room. Sometimes they would meet up for coffee during their lunch breaks and complain about raising teenagers, even though they both knew they could have had it much, much worse. 

The coffee meetings- not dates -increased in frequency, as they both kept coming up with flimsier excuses to meet, until they just decided to make it a weekly thing. (Not that she would ever admit it, but Joyce would be fine meeting up every day if Jim wasn’t so busy.) The waitresses at the diner had come to expect them on Wednesday afternoons at 12:30 and had their coffees waiting for them: black for Jim and two creams, two sugars for Joyce. They never really talked about anything deep, just about work and the kids. It was nice to talk about nothing sometimes, to not have to worry about the end of civilization as they knew it. Her break was shorter than his, and he’d always walk her back to Melvald’s, even though the station was in the complete opposite direction. He was always kind to her despite being gruff to nearly everyone else, but he never treated her like she was breakable or annoying, even with the frantic 2am phone calls and her almost-constant state of worry. She had earned the right to be a bit paranoid, he had said in his sleep-addled voice over the phone as he grabbed his keys to come over. 

That doctor may have been wrong about a lot of things, but he was right about the year anniversary of tragedy bringing back repressed memories. Jim knew the date without her mentioning it, sent Will over to Mike’s for a sleepover, and held Joyce while she cried. His shoulder was stained wet with tears, but he didn’t say a word, only provided a sturdy surface to anchor herself onto as she drowned. She didn’t remember falling asleep during a lull in the wracking sobs, but she woke up to find her tucked into the crook of Jim’s arm, still sitting upright on her couch. As she lulled in and out of sleep, she could have sworn he placed a small kiss right on her hairline. 

Their strange friendship continued while the kids were in high school, until they left for college and left Jim and Joyce alone, with too much time on their hands and too much space in their houses. The half-joked about following their kids for the rest of their lives, but they knew they had to be given space to grow and become adults, even though it occasionally kept them up at night with worry. Joyce found Hopper in her kitchen for dinner more nights than not, as it was silly for both of them to cook for one when they could make dinner together in half the time. It was purely logical, as Joyce kept telling herself. 

Things stayed as they were, halfway happy, as they both tried to avoid the tension always simmering just under the surface of them. That is, until Jim asked something while they were washing the dishes that changed everything. 

“Have you ever thought about moving away from here?”

Of course she had, millions of times. Hawkins, now that the kids were gone, only contained bad memories. Her house reminded her of good times, of course, but primarily bad. Of her husband leaving, of Will’s pained screams reverberating off the walls, of Bob. 

“Where to?” She asked.

“I got a job offer in Bloomington. It’s a nice college town, with actual things to do and interesting people.”

“That’s great, Jim.” She forced a smile, not wanting to think about him leaving Hawkins. 

(Leaving her)

“Come with me.” He said suddenly, forcefully, like he’d been holding back from saying it for years. They sat in silence for a minute, as what he’d asked fully settled over them. She didn’t reply immediately, instead took a minute to look around at her house, which looked even more depressing than normal in the moonlight. Maybe it was the two glasses of wine talking, or maybe her deepest thoughts were finally coming to light. 

“Okay.” He looked shocked, as he had every right to be. Joyce Byers was never destined to leave Hawkins; everyone had assumed she’d work at Melvald’s forever, passing the time until her boys came back to visit. But she didn’t want a stagnant life, she wanted to experience living somewhere that everyone didn’t know her entire life story. And maybe she wanted to experience all that with the one non-relative that had never left.

Jim was looking at her with a softness that she almost didn’t recognize. She set the half-washed plate in her hands down on the counter and looked up at him. His broad frame had always dwarfed her in comparison, but she felt especially small at that moment, which probably had more to do with the fondness in his eyes than physical stature. Finally, he leaned in and pressed his lips gently to hers. He tasted like cigarettes, which reminded her of kissing him under the bleachers in high school, but the scratch of his beard was new. He pulled away with a glint in his eye and a smirk on his face as he bent back over the sink to keep washing dishes. 

Joyce Byers was many things, but she was not a patient woman.

So she grabbed his collar a little forcefully and pulled him back to her.

They spent the night making up for lost time and giddily planning for their move. Normally, she would think it was too soon to move in together, but they were getting old and he basically lived at her house anyway. Will was surprised when they called him a week or so later and told him, but El wasn’t. She had always been too astute for her own good. 

They picked out a small house in the outskirts of Bloomington. It had three bedrooms- one for them and two guest rooms that would be Will and El’s when they came to visit-and several pull out couches for when the rest of the party inevitably wound up at their house. Joyce got a job doing administrative work for the university. It didn’t pay amazingly, but it allowed her to be around the students, which she loved, especially when she missed Will more than usual. 

It was such a cliche, two high school not-sweethearts growing apart and then growing back together. High school Joyce would’ve been nauseated at the thought, but almost-middle-aged Joyce was pretty content to be a cliche.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading this little thing that wouldn't get out of my head today 
> 
> xx


End file.
